


Sun in My Eyes

by AVirtoMusae



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Actually related to a previous tag, Agender Character, Also mentioned suicide attempt, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Martha L., Angst, Friends as Family, Genderfluid Character, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, I'll write you a one-shot if you can guess which one before it comes up in the fic, Is no one taking me up on this???, It'll hopefully expand from that later as it gets more established, John is a Mess, Lafayette!, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Character(s), On an unrelated topic, Poor John, Slow Burn, That'd be Alex, That's Frances Laurens, They go by Frank, This is starting out more focused around John and Alex's problems, Transgender Character(s), ace john, awww
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVirtoMusae/pseuds/AVirtoMusae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton never had a group of friends before, but when he gets a job at the bar called The Washingtonian, his entire life changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the cut song "Ten Things, One Thing." First fic I've written in the fandom, but I have start somewhere.

  


The bar was called The Washingtonian after the owner’s namesake. Alex didn’t know that when he first stepped inside. It shouldn’t have been as disconcerting as it was. The brick exterior had been clean and bright red as if someone had powerwashed it only moments before. Only the deteriorating mortar and the lights in the W flickering as the sign slowly died showed the building’s true age and what the inside might be like. Alex hadn’t even noticed. The building had looked nicer than just about everywhere he’d grown up.

The inside was noisy, and Alex had to step around a puddle of unidentified liquid on the top step. A second later, he knew exactly what the liquid was: piss. Alex was careful to check the rest of the stairs before he stepped down. These were his only good jeans and shoes. He couldn’t afford to ruin them even if he had already almost worn a hole through the shoes. The bar was bustling, and he was small. It was a risk. It was always a risk, but he needed employment. He wasn’t sure if he looked quite respectable enough for any other employment. He’d applied to work at the Wegmans, and they’d said he looked a bit too rough to work there. 

The Washingtonian was more-or-less his last option. Alex pushed his way through the crowd, and to his chagrin, he never came across a man fewer than two inches taller than he was. He felt a few hands go down and touch his ass as he fought his way through the crowd. He shrugged it off as best he could while his skin crawled. He needed this job or he might end up like his mom had. He’d been admitted to Columbia on a full-ride, but he needed money to survive around here. So he pressed himself to the counter after a furtive glance around. 

No one spared Alex a second glance. He coughed loudly, the noise rumbling through his skinny frame. A bartender turned around. He was tall, but then Alex thought everyone looked tall. His skin was dark, and any hair he had on the top of his head was covered in a clumsily tied American flag bandana. 

“Can I get you a drink?” The question is honest, asked in a forceful voice. Alex did not bite his lip. That was something reserved for people who got nervous, not for people like Alex. Alex was a little lion, a man who stood up for what he believed. He’d written essays, and he was going to get the damn things published if his publisher didn’t burn them first. Damn Burr, delaying his money and making him seek a job in this shithole. 

Alex shook his head at the bartender. “Don't have cash. You the guy in charge?”

The bartender chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. God no. I'm not Washington. The name's Hercules. Hercules Mulligan.” The bartender looked him up and down. “Why you asking?”

Alex shrugged. “Job. Money. I need it.” He adjusted the tie keeping his ponytail in place.

Mulligan looked him up and down and frowned. “Kid like you working here? You even of drinking age?” Mulligan placed a pint-sized glass beneath the Budweiser tap and then handed the drink off to some guy that Alex found vaguely intimidating.

“Yeah, and uh, not exactly. I heard you all were having some issues with your money and such, and I'm majoring in law and economics and such and need money myself,” Alex explained hurriedly. He was unsure of how eloquent he sounded talking so quickly. He wouldn't admit to it under torture, but he was nervous. He needed this job. 

“What are you, some kind of genius?” Mulligan asked, shaking his head. “Look, kid, this ain't the kind of place someone as scrawny as you should be working. I'm not going to lie to you. Despite Washington's best efforts, this place is still a shithole with the crowd to go with it. You're too scrawny to defend yourself.”

Alex crossed his arms and stared defiantly up at Mulligan. “Yeah, then why don't you teach me if you know so much?”

Mulligan’s eyebrows flew up in what was a rather comical look of shock at Alex’s attitude. “Kid, you're throwing away your shot by working here.”

“I need money. The scholarship’s not dropping me ‘cause I decided to get a job. I'll have Columbia and a job on my resume and if Burr gets his shit together, published essays.” Alex half-smiled and half-smirked at Mulligan. “I am not throwing away my shot.”

Mulligan laughed. “Take it up with the General — Washington, I mean. Come back at three tomorrow.”

Alex thanked Mulligan. Then he looked around the rest of the bar. It wasn't a nice place. The crowd were basically stuffy old white men whom Alex reckoned had to be almost entirely Republican. Or conservative. Or anything else that might make them awful. But Mulligan had been nice, and Alex had no doubts that if he got that job, Mulligan would actually give him self-defense lessons. Alex nodded and started to walk away from the bar itself when a tall man approached the bar and slammed his beer bottle and glass down hard enough that the drinks nearby rattled, too. Alex didn't think anyone else even noticed. 

“Yo, dickwad!” the man exclaimed, pointing rudely at Mulligan. Alex clenched his fists, but the man continued shouting over the hubbub. “Why can't you fucking make my beer taste like it's supposed to?! See this bottle? Fucking heaven, man. Yours is fucking piss — like what the fuck even?!” 

Alex couldn't listen to the abuse continue on without doing at least something to shut the man up. He tapped the man on the shoulder. “I get columns for the _Times_. What was your name again? I want to talk about customer service here — good and bad, and I need the names.”

“Seabury. Samuel. Sam.” The man, Seabury, was stuttering. Alex quickly committed the name to memory.

“Thanks. Hope you find a better drink.” Seabury, still with that disgruntled look on his face, stumbled away.

Mulligan was staring at him incredulously. “You write for the paper? And you still need more income?”

Alex scratched the back of his neck. “No. But Imma destroy that man on every social medium known to man.”

Mulligan laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “Be careful. You're a good man, Alex. I'll put in a good word in for you with the General.” Alex nodded and grinned as Mulligan went back to bartending. Alex slipped out of the building virtually unnoticed.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜ 

Alex’s dorm was average-sized. He had hung various activism posters on his walls. His desk was barely visible beneath his scattered papers. Then there were his two teetering towers of books — one was on the floor and taller than his desk and the other was on his desk and had fallen over five times in two days. Alex’s roommate was really no better when it came to organization. Madison had Febreze everywhere, and his side of the dorm smelled of perpetual Windex-ing. Still, Madison was like to have too many notebooks and binders lying around, and unlike Alex, Madison always left clothes lying around everywhere. Even Alex got pissed at that despite his own lack of organization, but that was mostly a result of the clothes occasionally interfering with his side.

It didn't occur to Alex to be particularly mindful of the mess. He was a bit too glad that Madison and Jefferson weren't going at it. Those two seemed to forget that locks were even a thing half the time. Maybe more than half. Alex sighed heavily as he walked over to the desk. About halfway, a paper started sticking to his sweaty foot. Alex paused for a second to peel it off. It was the ninth page of the essay due in four hours.

Alex cursed and sprinted the rest of the way to his desk and pressed the power button on his desktop. “Come on, come on,” he growled at it and occasionally tapped at the screen to try to get it to hurry up. The computer still turned on at its same slow pace. The loading screen lasted at least thrice as long as Madison’s laptop's did. 

Alex was just about to punch something (probably Madison’s Jefferson-scented pillow) when the login finally came up. Alex mentally cursed it out the entire time it loaded and kept protesting that it needed to configure personal settings and shit. Alex gave up on it rather quickly and started working on next week's reading in his anthropology class. After what he estimated to be about twenty minutes but was actually more like five, the desktop screen appeared. Alex opened his Google Chrome and pulled up his document on his Drive. 

It took much less time to print the document than to get it open, and that was mainly because Madison had no issues letting Alex use his printer. It was as a life-saver. The new copy of page nine came out of the printer a moment later. This time, Alex actually stapled his essay together and put it in the folder for his class on the American Constitution. 

Alex sighed again. All his stuff was together, and he still had a whole extra hour to spare. Grimacing, he peeled the button-down shirt he was wearing off, leaving him in a tank top and dress pants. The pants quickly joined the shirt on the floor. He straightened his compression tank to ensure his breasts were evenly trapped and then grabbed a pair of grey cargo pants and a t-shirt reading “If you're not outraged, you're not paying attention” from his side of the “closet.”

He quickly changed into the clean clothes and folded his dress clothes and placed them nicely on the shelf at the top to wear to his interview the next day and started to read the anthropology textbook before opting to instead take a scenic route to class. He didn't need to be reading about monkey sexual habits. He didn't really need to know about bonobo monkeys with g-g rubbing or that monkeys participated in oral sex.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Class was interesting, but it seemed to drag on forever. Alex just wanted to get out. Personal opinions aside, he did need to read that chapter of his textbook. He also wanted to send Burr another essay to try to publish. He stayed up all night doing this before showering and changing into a dressier shirt for his job interview.

It was 2:58 when Alex slipped into the bar. It was just as crowded as it had been the previous day. The music may have been a tad louder and the other noise even louder, too, as a result. He refused to give in and cover his ears because then the noise would win, and it would give Washington (he thought that was the owner) a chance not to hire him.

Alex leaned on the counter after he cast a glance around the tavern. There was no one looking at him. That fact made him feel a little bit better. He coughed and knocked on the bar. There was another man with Mulligan today, and it was that man who came over to him. This man was decidedly more portly than Alex, and Alex felt that the man could squash him like a bug. It took self-control not to take a step back. “Yah?” the man drawled, looking down his long nose at Alex.

This seemed to catch Mulligan’s attention because Mulligan came over a moment later. “Leave him alone, Freddy. He’s here for a job.” Freddy raised his hands in the air in the classic “I surrender” gesture.

“Whatev’, _mecker liese_! The kid thinks I’m goin’ ‘o eat him!” Freddy turned at Mulligan and grinned. Mulligan punched him lightly on the shoulder. Alex felt the urge to step back. He was a slight man, and the other two weren’t. He had every right to be intimidated. Alex blushed and firmly maintained his ground. Backing away in fear would be unacceptable.

“I’m here for my job interview,” Alex exclaimed. “Mulligan said I would have my interview with Washington. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.” He smiled and prayed to God it didn’t look too nervous. Freddy took pity on him and pointed in the direction of a door next to the bar. Mulligan walked out from behind the bar.

“It’s this way, kid.” He pushed open the door and followed Alex inside. Alex wouldn’t admit it under pain of death, but he was glad Mulligan was with him. Mulligan stepped in front of Alex again and led him down the hallway to a stairwell. The stairs were concrete, but like the hallway, they seemed in better condition than most of the establishment simply because they were less frequently used. Mulligan pointed up. “It’s the next floor up, first door on the left. You can’t miss it.”

Alex stepped into the stairwell and walked steadily over to the stairs. 

“Oh, and kid? Good luck.” Mulligan smiled and turned to walk back down the hallway. 

Alex sighed deeply and walked up the stairs to the office and knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy! ;)

Interviews were a terrifying thing. For Alex, who worried too much as it was, it was completely nerve-wracking. His hands were shaking, not just trembling, by the time he was out of Washington’s office. Even so, Alex was convinced that he had actually done a decent enough job with the interview. Washington’s interview had been one of the kindest he’d had, but it was still awkward. Alex talked so much, too much even, about anything that was not his own situation, and it was on that that the interview had focused. _What is your life like, Alex?_

After a few false starts, he had talked. He had still said the bare minimum about the Caribbean, about the poverty in which he had grown up and his lack of family, but he had talked for nearly an hour about what he wanted to do and the changes he was going to make one day. Washington had looked at him and nodded before telling him he would call in the morning to say whether or not he was accepted.

Alex walked back down the stairwell. Though his steps were always light, it seemed like they clunked heavily and echoed. Alex winced at the noise and raced down the stairs as quickly and quietly as he was capable of. As he stepped out of the stairwell, he found Mulligan waiting for him. Mulligan patted his arm. “What’d Washington say to you?”

Alex bit his lip and winced from the slight pain. “He’d call in the morning with the results, which I guess could be a good thing. He didn’t dismiss me out of hand, I suppose, but why wouldn’t he just tell me right away? Am I going to have to find something else? Oh God, I am, aren’t I? He just didn’t want to see how hurt I’d look. I —”

Mulligan placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder, and Alex flinched. “He always tells the people he’s going to hire that he’ll call them in the morning. He told that to me and Freddy, too.”

Alex let out a deep breath that he had not realized he’d been holding.”I’ve got the job?” Alex’s brown eyes widened in hope,and he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

“Yeah, kid,” Mulligan replied, “you do.” He grinned at Alex’s enthusiasm, but even he did not seem to expect Alex throwing his arms around Mulligan. Alex was a lightweight man, but Mulligan had not been prepared to catch him and had to take a step back to steady himself. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Alex whispered, the grin still evident in his voice. He released Mulligan and slid the almost-a-foot back down to the floor. 

Mulligan chuckled as he felt Alex release him. “You’re going to need that combat lesson after all.” He patted Aex on the shoulder. 

Alex bit his lip nervously and shifted from foot to foot. “Am I really going to need it? I’ve been fine getting here and back the other way.” Alex eyed Mulligan’s size. Mulligan was not necessarily abnormally large, but he was not small either. Alex got the sense he wouldn’t harm a fly, but he was still so big that Alex had this irrational fear that Mulligan could crush him.

“Kid,” Mulligan began, “I don’t think anyone wants to see you beat up or raped, so yeah, necessary.” Mulligan fixed Alex with a stare, and Alex tried to draw himself up to full height. Alex was still the opposite of intimidating, so when Mulligan just raised an eyebrow, Alex reluctantly nodded.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Alex had not brought anything with him, but Mulligan had told him to stay and handed him a tablet. Alex had blinked and accepted the tablet before plopping down on the floor behind the bar, just out of the many patrons’ line of sight. Alex considered himself fortunate that most of his writings were on the cloud, so he was able to access them despite not having his own beat-up laptop on him. 

Mulligan looked down at him as his fingers danced, frenetic, across the digital keyboard. Alex failed to notice the questioning eyebrow Mulligan had raised until about five minutes after when Mulligan had already had to turn and get drinks for patrons twice. When Alex saw, he turned so that the tablet was even farther out of the other man’s line of sight.

“How the fuck do you type so fast?!” Mulligan exclaimed, circumventing the obvious question of _what are you writing?_

Alex paused for a second and stared dumbly at Mulligan as he processed the question he was asked. Alex blinked. He hadn’t necessarily considered his typing speed before. He would have labelled it average-at-best. Alex had never been taught to type properly, so he had assumed he just wasn’t up to par. He frowned. “Uhh, I move my fingers?”

Mulligan snorted. “Not what I meant, dumbass. It was a compliment. Don’t know anyone else who writes like that.” 

Alex smiled crookedly. “Well, I’m told I talk too much. Write too much. But I have so many words, and I just have to get them out, or I swear I’ll go insane.” He typed out a couple more sentences. These were a bit slower earlier as he worked to recover his train of thought.

Mulligan laughed. “I’m sure.”

“Hey!”

Alex almost smiled.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

The call came just as Mulligan had told him it would. To his embarrassment, Alex had been in a library on-campus when he got the call as he had gotten up before the crack of dawn to study, so a bunch of his peers had shot him withering stares. Alex had flushed bright red, but he had answered the call and hurried outside. As soon as he was off the phone, Alex raced back inside and threw all his meager supplies into a sloppy pile and raced off to The Washingtonian.

By the time he reached the old building, he had only had to stop to pick up a wayward pen twice. It was actually rather impressive when one considered exactly how awkward the load he was carrying actually was. It was still early morning, before nine ante meridiem when Alex arrived. It was the earliest he had seen the place. It seemed cleaner than it had the previous day, and Alex supposed that made sense. The workers had had a chance to clean it after everyone had left.

Alex knocked nervously on the door and waited a moment. No response, so he knocked again. The door opened this time, and the person who opened it Alex recognized as Freddy. He seemed every bit as intimidating today as he had the previous day. “ _Tag_ ,” Freddy said, almost bored.

Alex blinked. “Uh, hello.”

Behind Freddy, Alex heard Mulligan laugh. “Let the kid in already.” Freddy stepped aside, and Alex stepped in. At the bar, a girl with brown hair and freckles was working. Alex couldn’t tell what exactly she was doing — mixing drinks, arranging chairs, cooking. He walked up to her. 

“Hey,” Alex said.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Flirting is a major no. Girls only.”

Alex held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, didn’t mean to flirt.” The girl snorted. “I’m Alex. Alexander Hamilton.”

“Laurens. Martha. The only reason this place actually sells food. You’re obviously new.” She looked him up and down. “You even legal?”

“Are you?” protested Alex. She didn’t look any older than he did.

Martha paused. “No. So I don’t work with the alcohol.”

“I’m barely. I'm doing finance though.” Martha nodded, looking relatively impressed.

“Cool. Look, I need to get back to work, but you seem like a cool dude. We should hang out sometime, yeah?” Martha smiled at him. “We can always have more friends.”

Alex laughed. “Sure thing.” He wrote down his number on a napkin and thrust it at her. “Here.”

She took the napkin. “I’ll text you later.”

Alex grinned and walked over to the staircase. Time for work.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Alex was exhausted by the time he finally got off work. His new office was right across from Washington, which was in itself exhausting simply because he had this constant feeling of being _watched_. And Alex had to be on his very best behavior. He was not throwing away his shot on his very first day.

When he came downstairs, Mulligan was waiting for him. So was Freddy, and that made Alex nervous on a very instinctual level. “Yo, me and Freddy’re gonna go to his place for some drinks. You in?”

Alex was still nervous. These two men had been kind to him so far, but for how much longer? Alex did not trust their kindness to last. After all, no one else’s had. Whether or not it lasted, Alex was sure it was in his best interests to make them like him. “Yeah, sure.”

“Cool, man. C’mon let’s get out of here!” Mulligan exclaimed. He grinned. “Told you he’d come!”

Freddy rolled his eyes. “ _Ya, richtig._ Whatev. My car’s ‘round back.” He nudged Mulligan’s shoulder, and the three men started walking to Freddy’s car.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

When they got to the apartment that apparently was shared by Freddy and his boyfriend, a thin French kid with a babyface named Pierre (“But not like that Pierre guy from _Great Comet_ ‘cause no”). Pierre had apparently already gotten the drinks out and decided what they were going to watch. Why anyone would watch Episode I of _Star Wars_ of their own free will was beyond him, but at least they’d be drunk.

Alex sat on the arm of the couch instead of trying to cram himself in with the three other men. All in all, the movie night wasn’t going all that badly until drunkenly, just as Queen Amidala started talking to Anakin in Watto’s shop, Freddy joked that Alex could probably do a great Amidala impression.

Alex didn’t panic, but he turned bright red and excused himself to the bathroom. To his horror, he could see tears in his eyes when he looked in the bathroom mirror. Was it so obvious he was trans or was it just an innocent guess? Were his new “friends” transphobic? Oh God.

Alex took a deep breath to calm himself down. Everything was going to be all right. Just breathe.

He breathed. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out. _Two new mesages from one conversation._

_From unknown number: hey  
From unknown number: its martha from work_

Another message appeared. Alex added Martha as a new contact.

_From Martha: :)  
To Martha: hey how goes it???_

There was a long pause before the next message came through.

_From Martha: you busy?  
To Martha: no why?  
From Martha: this is gonna be weird considering we literally met today but  
From Martha: its my brother  
From Martha: i need help asap  
From Martha: the address is xxx xxxxxx street.  
To Martha: im on my way be there in a sec_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully next chapter comes out sooner. Feedback helps me write faster. Next chapter we meet John and the real drama begins.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Sorry for the delay!

Alex had no idea what to expect as he walked down the street from the metro station to the address Martha had given him. It wasn’t the longest walk in the world, but nervousness seemed to lengthen it. Alex didn’t know Martha’s brother. Alex had no idea what had happened, but he knew one thing for certain: Martha was a desperate woman, so it had to be bad.

Alex pressed the ringer, and Martha buzzed him in almost immediately. Alex wondered if she had been standing there and waiting for it to go off. Alex nearly ran to the elevator. The elevator was irritatingly sluggish, but he only had to go up to the second floor. He bolted off the elevator the second the door reopened. The apartment was the one directly across from the elevator. 

As soon as Alex knocked, Martha shouted, “Come in!” Alex tested the doorknob, which was indeed unlocked. Alex was nervous about entering the flat. He assumed it was safe, but one could never be too prepared. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that met him when he opened the door. Martha sat right next the box on the wall where the buzzer was to let people in. The chair she sat in was rickety. In her arms was a much taller boy who was curled in her lap — a boy that was presumably the brother she had mentioned.

“Hi?” Alex asked, looking from Martha to her brother and back again. 

Martha didn’t smile. With the boy on her lap in the state he was in, Alex guessed that she didn’t have much reason to be smiling. “Alex, you’re here, good. I’m sorry I texted you I just — my girlfriend and her sisters are busy. Laf’s taking Frances to the movies. And the other guys — well, John won’t trust them.” Martha bit her lip. John had no idea who the people she mentioned were. _Laf? Frances? Who were they?_

Alex shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.” That was a lie since he had been hanging out with the other guys from work, but this had to be by far more important even if he didn’t know what exactly was up with Martha’s brother.

Said brother made a muffled sobbing sound. Had the man been sobbing the entire time Alex had been rushing to get here? That had been twenty minutes at least, and who knew how long John’d been sobbing before Martha had texted Alex. 

“Go take a fast shower, get a breath mint off the kitchen counter, and borrow some of John’s clothes off the bathroom sink. They’re clean,” Martha instructed. “You can’t smell like alcohol, and no, I’m not explaining.” Apparently she was already able to read Alex’s confused expression perfectly.

Alex nodded and complied to her demand as he sensed that this was no time to argue.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Things didn’t look too different after Alex got out of the shower. He didn’t put his compression t-shirt back on. He didn’t trust that it didn’t smell vaguely of alcohol. His breasts, too, were small enough that a compression t-shirt made him look almost entirely flat-chested — in this he was undoubtedly blessed. A heavy t-shirt might do the same job, and the t-shirt Martha had left for him certainly seemed thick enough to do the trick.

The shorts he slipped on were perhaps a bit too loose for his perpetually skinny frame. He’d never quite remembered to eat more than a single meal a day, and he had never had the money to make eating more than that possible either. He flushed slightly, a bit embarrassed by his body. He turned his mind elsewhere, to his writing, simply so that he might avoid the worse feelings of gender dysphoria. 

He shut his eyes and ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip. He chanced a glance in the mirror. He looked masculine enough for his satisfaction. He opened the door and walked back out to the area. Martha and John were still relatively in the same position. “Hi,” Alex said a bit nervously. 

Martha smiled tightly. “Good.” She patted her brother on the shoulder. John jumped, for a second looking rather panicked. “It’s fine, John. We’re just moving to the couch.” 

John nodded tensely. Alex hovered a few feet away, unsure what he was supposed to be. John stood up, and Alex could see John’s entire body shaking. Martha stood up, and John instantly leaned on her.

“Alex, follow,” Martha said. Nervously, Alex did. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was here still, but there had to be a reason. Alex was the first to sit down on the couch. The way he sprawled was instinctive and also probably rude, but neither Martha nor John commented. They sat down at the other end of the couch. Martha sat down in the corner, leaving John between her and Alex’s feet. He was much closer to the former than the latter.

“So this is my brother John.”

Alex nodded.

“John, this is Alex.” 

John, still clinging to Martha, shook his head.

“John’s . . . John’s not . . . He . . .”

John looked up at Martha. There was a lot contained in that look that Alex wasn’t able to understand. The sentence itself, however, he thought he might be able to finish: _John’s not okay._ Alex swallowed. He didn’t know if he was going to get a better answer than that. 

“What can I do to help?”

Martha bit her lip. “Sit with him and keep an eye on him. Look, I have to go — if I miss another shift at my other job right now, I’m fired, and the money, and —”

Alex nodded. It was weird, being left with a clearly not okay man and the person who invited him in in the first place fleeing, but he wasn’t in a position to say no. Martha looked desperate. “Yeah, sure.”

And so, after stopping at a mirror in the entryway and adjusting her hair and blouse, Martha was gone. Alex turned to look at John. “Um, this is awkward. So . . . .”

John stared at him a moment, hazel eyes wide, and Alex thought he might be able to see unshed tears glistening in John’s eyes and dried tear-tracks on the man’s face. It was then Alex realized his words might have been a poor idea, and the way John seemed to curl in on himself made Alex realized there was no “might” about it.

“Shit, sorry. So, uh, what do you want to do?” Alex grimaced. Even to his own ears, his words sounded dumb and ill-thought-out. 

John blinked. Then he bit his lip. Then he shook his head again. Alex frowned and tilted his head to the side. He scooted closer to John and sat more like a normal person who didn’t take up the entire couch. “Hey, I’m not gonna ask you what’s wrong since, you know, we just met. But I can turn on a movie, or read you something, or —?”

John whispered something, and Alex wasn’t quite able to hear him. whispered something, and Alex wasn’t quite able to hear him. 

Alex tilted his head to the side. “What?”

John spoke again, more loudly this time, “Talk. Tell . . . Tell me about you.” His voice was hoarse, and Alex wasn’t sure if the cause was disuse or crying.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

So Alex talked. To this man he barely knew, he said more about himself than he had told anyone else. He talked about his dad, about playing ball in their house to Jamie Jr. and Rachel’s dismay, and about how they’d had this one deck of cards and how Rachel had always been the best by far. Alex talked about when he’d gotten his first notebook and his first law textbook. He talked about every happy thing and left the bad in the shadows. By the time he was done talking, he felt a little lighter. By the time he was done talking, John was leaning ever-so-slightly toward Alex. They weren’t touching, and Alex, frankly, would have been surprised if they did. But it was something, and something in John’s face was more relaxed. Alex bit his lip. _He wanted to see a smile on John’s face._

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Alex didn’t ask John to talk about himself. That wouldn’t be fair, but more than that, Alex knew a closed door when he saw one. Later, he promised himself, he’d learn more about John. “Hey,” Alex whispered to John.

John looked at Alex and sat up straighter.

Alex tried not to be disappointed. 

“I’m John Laurens,” John whispered back, fidgeting slightly. 

Alex smiled. “Nice to meet you, John Laurens.”

There may have been the hint of a smile on John’s lips. “And you. Look — if . . . if you wanna go, I’ll - I’ll be fine.” 

The smile was more of a grimace, Alex realized. Alex tried not to let his disappointment show. “No, I’m fine staying. Better than walking in on my roommate having sex by a long shot.” Alex would have had to have been blind to miss the way John froze. “You okay?”

John shook his head slowly. 

“What can I do?” The question was quiet. 

John shook his head. Had Alex not been listening, he would have missed the quiet answer: “ _Stay._ ”

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

It was later when Martha returned. Her shift had been, to put it lightly, highly exhausting. It was amazing the general idiocy of her coworkers. She still didn’t quite believe some of their shit, and she’d been there. So that was great — and as if it weren’t bad enough that she had to worry about her brother. She’d found him on the roof when she’d gotten him from her first job, and John only ever went up there when he was . . . doing more badly than usual.

She’d had only an hour between her jobs, so she was glad when Alex had said he could come over. She’d have had to skip her second job otherwise, and neither she nor her brother could afford that, especially not with John on an enforced “mental health break” from his job. 

What Martha hadn’t anticipated was how well Alex would apparently get on with John. When she walked in, both men were asleep on the couch. They weren’t quite touching (which was good because her brother’s reaction on waking up would not have been a good thing) but their hands and feet were close to it. It was a sweet scene, Martha thought.

She went to her bedroom and quickly changed into her pajamas before returning to the living room. She didn’t have the latest phone, but it was decent enough — a double-slide phone from a few years ago. The pictures it took weren’t the best, but she couldn’t resist: She took a picture and set it as her home screen.

It was with a slight smile on her lips that she returned to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So: Next chapter: John's doing a bit better, and more charries are introduced (I'll let you guess who).  
> As an FYI, I'm imagining [Anna Shaffer](http://www.unitedagents.co.uk/sites/default/files/Anna%20Shaffer%20New.jpg) as Martha Laurens.  
> Questions for the Reader: I want to do another AU, and I'll let you have some input as to which I choose: Supernatural!AU or Star Trek!AU.  
> Feedback is always loved!
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, I actually finished a chapter. I am hoping to do a better job updating regular now that the schoolyear is here, but I make no guarantees.
> 
> Warnings for the chapter: infidelity

It was morning, and Alex was awakened by the smell of pancakes. He frowned in confusion. He lived in a dorm. Therefore there was no stove or anything to cook on, and even Madison and Alex wouldn't ignore the rules that much. So what was going on?

Alex opened his eyes. Oh. Right. He was at the Laurenses’ apartment. And he had fallen asleep on the couch. It occurred to him that that might have been the best and longest he’d slept in weeks.

Alex sat up and rubbed his neck. So his sleep hadn’t been perfect. He had a crick in his neck. Gross.

None of this explained the smell of pancakes. John was still asleep next to Alex, and Alex had no idea if Martha were still there. Alex sat up enough to peer over the back of the couch.

An unfamiliar person was standing there in front of a griddle. Next to said person was a little girl. Alex got up and walked to the kitchen. 

The kitchen was small, and just the three people counted as “too many cooks in the kitchen,” but Alex didn't leave. “Hey, I'm Alex Hamilton. He/him pronouns.”

The older person turned around and smiled. “Lafayette. The full name is, as you say, a mouthful. They/them.” Alex was struck by how much taller Lafayette was than he. The puffy ponytail on Lafayette’s head didn’t help how tiny Alex suddenly felt.

Lafayette pushed the little kid forward. “Frank.” Lafayette poked the kid’s shoulder so that Frank looked up at them. “I’m. . . it was a gender, right, Laffy? They/them.”

Lafayette chuckled and ruffled the child’s hair. They glanced back up at Alex. “Agender, sweetie. If you mess up their pronouns, I will murder you. Capiche?”

Alex nodded. “Capiche. So, uh, what do you do?” Alex tapped his foot lightly, the motion not fuelled by impatience or irritation so much as nervousness. He bit his lip.

Lafayette shrugged. “Stuff. Uh, how you say, Starbucks barista and history major.” They grinned and tilted their head to the side, wrapping an arm around Alex’s shoulders. Alex tensed, and Lafayette let the arm drop. “Sorry.”

There was the smell of something burning, and Lafayette cursed loudly. And then they covered Frank’s ears and cursed again. “ _Merde!_ John’ll murder me for letting his kid hear that.” They uncovered Frank’s ears. “Frank, don’t ever repeat what I just said, okay?”

Frank nodded.

“Now why don’t you go along and wake your father up. He’s better at this,” they looked around at the kitchen, nose wrinkling, “ _pancake thing_ than I am.”

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

As it turned out, John Laurens was not the type of man who liked to be woken up. At all. Alex was sure that the only reason the man hadn’t flicked someone off yet was his kid. John, Alex realized, was very protective of his kid. Alex suspected that John also might just not be comfortable flipping the bird around him yet. This Alex could understand.

But, for all John grumbled about being awake, he made some mean pancakes. Alex wasn’t sure he’d ever had a pancake that good before. 

Still, Alex couldn't help but feel like he didn't belong here no matter how nice they all were to him. John refusing to look at him didn't help either. When Alex finished his pancakes, he excused himself, citing needing to finish some schoolwork as reason for leaving. It wasn't fully a lie — he always had work to do; it was just that this didn't happen to be entirely urgent. He’d finished all his work for the next two weeks already.

As he approached the door, someone behind him coughed. “Hey.”

John.

“Hey, how you feeling?” Alex smiled at John. Alex could admit to being slightly nervous — he didn't want to send the other man into the state he’d been in the previous night.

“Nonono, don't be nervous. Please. Look, I'm all right. I just wanted to thank you for, uh, last night.” John grimaced. 

Alex nodded even though he thought John’s request was slightly unreasonable. He’d seen John the previous night. Yes, he didn’t know John that well yet, but he still had every right to worry about him. “Yeah, sure, no problem.”

“But like you really didn't have to.”

Alex blinked.

“I should repay you somehow.”

“Right. A, no, you don't have to, really. B, if you really want to, maybe we could talk some time? Hang out?” Alex bit his lip and then tried his most charming smile.

John looked down at Alex’s feet. “Right . . . okay.”

Alex, nostrils flaring, tilted his head to the side. There was something up, and he didn't understand what it was. He didn't like that very much. It was only Burr’s voice in his head, telling him that it was his constant questions that drove people away, that kept Alex from asking John what was wrong.

Alex tried smiling. He was at a loss for what else he could do. It was unnervingly like something Burr might do. Alex's watch chirped, and Alex cursed. “ I have to go . . . my class starts in literally ten minutes. Bye.” Alex rushed out the door. It was only later that he realized he forgot to give John his number.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Class was long, which was to be expected. But, at the very least, it did seem to be interesting. That was a comfort, considering that Alex disagreed with literally every word that came out of his professor’s mouth. Still, as long as the class was interesting, and he could disagree with the professor all he wanted in his essays, the class was pretty okay.

What was not “pretty okay” was walking back to his dorm to find his roommate, Madison, sobbing into a pillow. Madison’s binder was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor, which was not remotely in character — Madison was not a neat man, but he always kept anything that indicated he was trans and not a cis man out of sight whenever it wasn’t in use. Really, if Alex hadn’t guessed that something was wrong based on Madison’s crying, he would have known it off of the binder on the floor alone.

Alex, hesitantly, walked up to Madison. The two men hadn’t been on the best of terms since Alex had socked Jefferson on the mouth and knocked out one of Jefferson’s annoyingly perfect teeth. (Alex would admit to wishing he’d just broken Jefferson’s nose since Jefferson seemed rather proud of his golden tooth). “Hey, can I sit here?”

Madison nodded. “Yeah, yeah . . . go ahead.”

“Can I hug you?” Alex asked carefully. Madison was not always a fan of physical contact, mostly because with most people, being reminded of his chest or sides or really anything about himself that looked or felt vaguely feminine. Alex understood, for he, too, often felt similarly, though for him, it was okay so long as he initiated the contact and it was with one of the now non-existent people he trusted. As far as Alex knew, Jefferson was the only person Madison was truly comfortable with.

Alex watched as Madison bit his lip and then nodded. Alex scooted closer to Madison and then gingerly, so as not to accidentally put pressure on the man’s hips or breasts and make things worse, wrapped his arms around him. After a moment, Alex pulled back. He saw Madison deflate slightly at the loss of contact, so Alex placed his arms back around Madison. 

After a moment, Madison whispered, “Thanks . . . I just . . . I just need someone to care.”

“People like you,” Alex pointed out. “I think you’ve got more friends than I do, unless you count enemies, and then I’m totally winning the popularity contest, damnit!”

Madison let out a watery chuckle. “I mean, someone to, y’know, make an effort. Jefferson told me he likes someone else, Angie, or something like that. I’ve seen her a couple times, and she’s pretty perfect. She’s a lot like you, actually. But this was after- after I caught him with her.”

 _What?_ “Huh? But I thought you two —”

“Me, too,” Madison sighed. He leaned against Alex, and Alex rubbed circles on his back. Alex wanted to do something more to console Madison, but he didn’t know what. The two had been friends at first, but Alex was not close to Madison or Jefferson. Any attempt to console Madison would sound hollow and false.

Alex was silent for a moment before saying, “I have work tonight. I do the financial stuff for this bar if maybe you want to come with me? You like that stuff a bit, right?”

Madison made a face. “Not really, but better than being here.” 

Alex laughed. “Cool.”

Madison rolled his eyes.

☃ ⚜☃ ⚜☃ ⚜

Alex and Madison entered The Washingtonian in the middle of the afternoon. It was open to the public, but there still weren’t that many people. It was also the middle of the week. Alex looked around the room for people to introduce Madison to. There was Mulligan and Freddy (but Madison seemed a bit intimidated by both, so maybe not just yet). Alex looked around for Martha.

She was in the corner, talking to a girl wearing all green army-print, even including a beanie. Martha glared slightly at Alex, but she beckoned the two of them over. “This is Peggy, my girlfriend,” Martha explained when they got over there.

“Madison, my roommate,” Alex explained.

Peggy’s eyes narrowed. “Like James Madison? The one my sister’s boyfriend’s cheating on her with?”

Madison turned and was about to run away, but Alex called for him to wait. Madison didn’t wait, but Alex caught up to Madison quickly and explained where his office was. Madison grimaced in what Alex assumed was an expression of gratitude. With Madison hiding, Alex returned to Peggy and Martha.

He pointed a finger at Peggy. “I really want to punch you right now, but I’m not. Don’t you fucking dare say that to Madison. As far as he’s aware and as far as I’m aware, his boyfriend was cheating on him with ‘Angie.’ So don’t you blame him. Frankly, blame Jeffershit.”

“First off, yes, fuck Jeffershit, but second of all, what the fuck am I supposed to think when I see my sister’s boyfriend with someone else?! How was I supposed to know that?!” Peggy had crossed her arms. 

Alex opened his mouth to respond when Martha cut in, glaring at both of them. “Look, I’m mad at both of you all right now. Peggy, you just made Alex’s friend cry. Alex, you sent my brother some really mixed signals today. I’m warning you: Don’t try anything with him, or you’ll have me to answer to. Now, you two can continue your shit here, but I’m going to go check on Madison. You office, Hamilton?”

Alex nodded meekly. _Mixed signals? What? What was Martha talking about?_ Once Martha was gone, Alex frowned. _Was it because he’d rushed out after asking to meet up with John? But he hadn’t even been flirting!_ He ran a hand through his hair.

Peggy snorted at his apparent confusion. “She’ll murder you if you mess with her brother. Be careful.” She turned to leave.

“Where you going?” Alex asked, frowning again,

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Imma go fight Jefferson. Because how fucking dare he.”

Alex grinned. “Can I come?” He paused. “And word of advice — don’t knock his teeth out. He’ll be even more insufferable if he has to get _another_ fake tooth put in.”

Peggy smirked. “Thanks. Well, you coming or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Reviews are love and actually a bit motivating despite me beig shit at updating regularly.
> 
> Next chapter: Martha and Madison's talk, possibly Peggy and Jefferson fighting.
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


	5. A/N

Salutations!

I think it likely that I am to discontinue this work. Why? I think the outline I have in my head wants to go in so many different places with the characters that it lacks order and causes all the hypothetical plotlines to be too abstract. this is especially discontinued as i have also left the fandom 

A Virto Musae  
By the Virtue of the Muse

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated. Anyway, I hope to hear from you all! =)
>
>> A Virto Musae  
> By the Virtue of the Muse


End file.
